Father Knows Best
by Dwyn Arthur
Summary: Joint 1st place winner of the iCarly What If Story Challenge. Freddie turns to his father for advice after the Ridgeway lock-in.


**A/N: And now it's my turn to contribute to our "iCarly What If Story Challenge!" Imagine for a moment if Freddie's father wasn't missing. What if he lived in Apartment 8-D with Freddie and Marissa? How would that change their lives? What would he think of Freddie's friends? Would he share Marissa's feelings about Sam?**

**What would Freddie's relationship with his father be like? And how would it feel for Freddie to be able to turn to his father for advice? Such as the morning after the Ridgeway lock-in, when a certain blonde-headed demon changed their friendship forever? Will Jack help Freddie realize how he feels?**

**I'd love it if you went over to the profile page of TheWrtrInMe and vote in her poll for your favorite What-If Challenge story! Would love it even more if you voted for Father Knows Best! Voting will remain open until noon (US Eastern Time, that's 1700 UTC for you techy Freddie-types) on Saturday.**

**Disclaimer: Schneider owns it, I don't. And TheWrtrInMe owns more of Jack Benson than I do.**

**Disclaimer part 2: I cannot deny that my thinking on the ideal relationship advice to give to Sam and Freddie was strongly influenced by Chapter 7 of WhiteKnightro's "iLove You So Now What?" so I won't try to claim that any similarities are simply coincidental. And if you haven't read that story, you really need to.**

Forty-seven year old lawyer Jackson Daniel Benson stumbled around the kitchen of Apartment 8-D at 8 am on Sunday morning. He didn't usually sleep late on weekends, but this morning, he wished he could. Unfortunately, not for the first time, his sleep had been disturbed by his son's antics. Freddie wasn't a bad kid, quite the opposite actually. But for the past five years, Freddie seemed to be constantly at the center or the sidelines of one completely ridiculous situation after another. Jack had grown used to these interruptions over time, and could only agree with a colleague who told him that it seemed Jack and his family lived in a sitcom. At least this time he'd been able to deal with it on his own, so far. His wife Marissa was much more excitable than he was, prone to thinking that some disaster was about to befall Freddie (or expose him to germs). Jack was the calm and cerebral Benson, and he knew his son took after him for the most part. The main difference between them was that while Jack had spent most of his youth as a loner, head buried in a book, Freddie had spent his teenage years all but joined at the hip to two female best friends. He knew Carly and Sam, and the weekly webshow they produced, meant the world to Freddie, but in his lucid moments he knew Marissa had a point: that if Freddie wanted a quiet adolescence, he had teamed up with the wrong pair of girls.

Jack turned his attention to the pancakes he was cooking, and got a pot of coffee started. The smell of the coffee woke him up a little more, and he appreciated it. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and thought about all that already happened. His day began when he was awakened by a phone call from Freddie at 5:30 am. Freddie spent the night at his high school as part of its annual spring lock-in, where students finished their semester projects. He had been expecting Freddie to come home around 7 with his neighbor, and Carly's brother, Spencer Shay, who had driven to the lock-in and been one of the chaperones. But Freddie told him that Spencer was sick after a series of his usual pratfalls, and Principal Franklin had released them early and told them to get him home. Spencer was in no shape to drive, so Jack wound up driving Freddie and his friends back to Bushwell Plaza.

_Freddie and his group of friends were waiting, lined up along the curb in front of the school. Spencer, visibly green and being held up on one side by Freddie, whispered a thank you as he and the rest of the group got into the car. Freddie propped Spencer against the back seat and then sat silently in the seat beside Carly, avoiding her eyes. When Carly reached over to shut the door, Jack looked to Freddie._

"_Freddie, where is Sam? Doesn't she need a ride?"_

_Freddie looked at Carly, and withered under her stare. "No, Dad." Freddie's voice was low, "She left a while ago."_

"_What do you mean, 'she left?' I thought this was a lock-in. Where did she go?"_

_When Freddie didn't answer, Jack turned to the morose looking brunette beside him. "Carly?" He knew he was using his 'parent' voice._

"_I'm sorry Mr. Benson. I don't know where she went. I wasn't really paying attention. I was worried about Spencer."_

"_So she could be … anywhere? Out on the streets in the middle of the night? Who lets a friend do that?"_

Jack could only hope that she simply went home on her own. Unlike his wife, Jack had a soft spot when it came to Freddie's friends – especially Sam. While Carly at least had Spencer to look out for her, he'd always gotten the feeling that Sam was basically alone. Sam was prone to stunts like this, and though Jack knew she had more street smarts than three-quarters of the Seattle underworld, he also feared that she got by on luck that would eventually run out.

The car ride home was quiet, except for Spencer's periodic groaning. From his rearview mirror, Jack could see Freddie looking down at his hands and Carly frequently casting Freddie looks of annoyance backed by confusion. Freddie and Carly were obviously preoccupied about something, and he didn't think it was Sam's whereabouts.

Jack had everyone home around 6, and he crawled back into bed beside his wife who was, surprisingly, asleep instead of waiting up to drag every possible detail out of him. When he woke up a couple of hours later, he could hear his son moving around in his bedroom, and surmised that he hadn't slept. Like most teen boys, Freddie kept weird hours when he didn't have to be at school the next morning, but he was especially liable to go without sleep when he was upset.

For the past week, Freddie had been obsessed with the final stages of his school project, which was an application for the pearPad he called "MoodFace," a more scientific variation on the mood rings Jack played with as a boy. Jack thought the application far-fetched at first, but was won over when Freddie tested him and discovered his mood was "amused." All seemed to be going well, and in any case, Freddie generally took care of business with his schoolwork. He didn't sit around worrying about it. No, when Freddie got upset, it generally involved a girl, and he wondered if there was a connection to Carly's annoyance in the car. Freddie hadn't said a word about his middle-school crush on her for over a year, but Jack wondered if he had decided to make one last try and had been rebuffed again.

Freddie was usually willing to go to his dad for advice about his love life. He didn't go to his mother, who unfortunately was a little opinionated on the subject (she didn't want to lose her Freddiebear to any girl) and offered her advice uninvited. Freddie liked to deal with this on his own terms, and Jack picked up on this more quickly than his wife had. At some point during the day Freddie would be ready to talk. He just needed time.

Marissa and Freddie shortly joined him at the breakfast table, and while their meal together was not particularly tense, it was quiet. Freddie stared at his plate without budging his eyes, and Marissa looked concerned. Finally, when Freddie finished his food and started back to his room without having uttered a word, Marissa pounced, taking off after him.

"Freddie, are you okay? What's wrong?" Freddie entered his room and closed the door without a word.

"Jack, something's wrong." She turned to him, familiar worry lines furrowing her brow. "It's one of those girls again, isn't it?" She knew that if he'd decided to share the problem with one of his parents, Jack would be the one most likely to know.

Jack put his hands up. "Marissa, honey, it's fine. He just needs a little time. Give him a couple of hours. He'll come to us when he's ready." He walked over to where she stood, looking at Freddie's closed door and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You worry too much."

"And you worry too little," she said, more laughter in her voice than irritation.

"That's what makes us perfect for each other."

"Mr. Sweet Talker." She laughed, turning to push him back into the kitchen. "Now pour me a cup of coffee and tell me what you know."

By noon, Freddie still had not come out of his room, and Jack thought it might be time to move things along. He knocked on Freddie's door, without an answer. Jack opened the door and poked his head into the room. The room was empty, but the window was open, and Freddie sat in his chair out on the fire escape. Jack leaned through the window, and asked Freddie if he wanted a smoothie. Freddie simply nodded his head, as he stared at the skyline.

Jack and Freddie long had a ritual of going to the Groovy Smoothie when Freddie wanted to talk about something bothering him. And when it was something serious, Jack usually got the smoothies to go and brought them back to the fire escape. Jack grabbed his jacket and headed out the front door to the elevator. He did not need to ask Marissa if she wanted one. He already knew that she did not trust the hygiene of the dreadlocked shop owner. Smoothies were his and Freddie's thing. He walked right past Lewbert (who gave Jack the occasional dirty look but never said a word to him) and across the street, where the Groovy Smoothie was already filling up.

As Jack waited for the young girl ahead of him in line to finish ordering, Jack looked around the shop and spotted Sam Puckett's wavy blonde hair. She was sitting alone at a corner table. Jack was relieved to see that she was okay, until he noticed that she had the same look on her face that Freddie had. Whatever happened at the lock-in, whatever had Freddie so upset – it must involve Sam.

Just then, the girl in line left the counter, leaving Jack face to face with shopkeeper T-Bo.

"Good afternoon, T-Bo."

"Mr. B.! How are you? Where's Freddie?"

"He's back at home, and I'd like a large blueberry and a medium mango-banana to go."

"Sure thing." T-Bo began to scoop fruit and yogurt into his blender.

"Hey, T-Bo," Jack said quietly. "How long has Sam been here?"

T-Bo glanced at her as he continued making the smoothies. "She came in right when I opened the place this morning. She didn't even order anything. Just been sitting there for a couple of hours now, not talking to anyone."

"Hm. Can you add another large Strawberry Splat to my order?"

"Sure thing, Mr. B. Wanna buy a muffin?" T-Bo held up a stick.

"Yes, but not if you rip it apart by forcing it onto a stick. Can I have a blueberry one from the tray?

"Suit yourself," T-Bo said, obviously miffed.

Five minutes later, Jack was holding his smoothies and muffin, walking tentatively over to Sam's table. She did not look up as he took a seat and set the strawberry smoothie and muffin in front of her. Up close, he could see that her hair hadn't been combed, and she was wearing a wrinkled red and white striped top that she might have had on for more than a day. He suspected she hadn't eaten at all since the lock-in. Her whole face was puffy, especially her eyes. She had been crying recently. Jack remembered Freddie telling him that Sam tried to avoid crying at any price and he'd witnessed her appetite personally, so if she was crying in public and not eating she must be as upset as Freddie over whatever had happened.

"Hi, Sam." She looked up at Jack, but didn't say a word. "You look like you could use this." More silence.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "I was worried when you weren't with Freddie and Carly when I picked them up from the lock-in. They were pretty worried too."

Sam raised her head, a flash of concern on her face. Sam wasn't much of an emotional person, but Jack knew she cared about her friends.

"Did Fre…did they tell you that?"

"They didn't have to. Freddie and Carly were really worried about you last night when I brought them home. You just took off from the lock-in. None of us knew where you were."

"Why didn't Spencer take them home?"

"He got sick. And I don't know what happened there."

She smiled a little. "Carly and Gibby made him a guinea pig for their project and did tests on him."

"Gibby?"

"Yeah."

"No wonder he looked sick." In Jack's experience anything involving Gibby couldn't turn out well.

"So is Spencer okay?"

"He didn't look so good when I dropped him off but Carly hasn't said anything to us so he must be okay now. I promised to take him back to Ridgeway this afternoon to get his car. So … why did you run off from the lock-in? Is everything okay?"

He knew it wasn't, that much was obvious, but he also knew that if he pushed too hard, she'd run right out of here and try to handle whatever this was on her own.

Sam paused, then her shoulders dropped. Jack was one of the few adults who seemed to take an interest in her life, and he was one of the few male adults she could confide in. She perhaps trusted Spencer more, but Jack was a genuine adult who led a life meeting genuine responsibilities, and he always held what she said in confidence. She saw early on that Freddie was so much more like his father than his mother, and she often wondered what Freddie's parents saw in each other. As grown-ups went, Jack Benson was okay in Sam's eyes. Freddie's mother? Not so much.

"I did something really stupid that I shouldn't have done and now everything's a big mess that I'm never gonna to be able to fix."

"That sounds serious. What was it? Did something happen with your mother?" Jack didn't think that was the problem this time, but he always thought it best to ask. He never trusted Pam Puckett. He had seen Sam go to the apartment across the hall from him because she had nowhere else to stay far too many times.

Sam looked up and shook her head vehemently.

"Did something happen with Freddie or Carly?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll deal with it."

For all of three minutes, he'd managed to get her to come out from the wall she was so comfortable hiding behind. But now he could see her retreating. "Sam, I hope you know that if you need to talk about something, I'm always here to help you. I've watched you, Carly, and Freddie grow up together – I know how much that friendship means to you, all of you. I don't think there's anything that could happen among the three of you that's unfixable. You're lucky to share such a close friendship. I think you can all talk to each other, too. If something is wrong with them, tell them."

"This one's pretty bad, Mr. Benson."

"I've told you…call me Jack."

"It's pretty bad…Jack."

"Worse than when you all got in trouble for hacking into the school's computer? That was pretty bad…and eventually all was forgiven, right?"

Sam cringed. She'd forgotten all about that incident. "It's probably worse, but once again it's my fault and…I don't know if they'll forgive me for this one." She sighed and sank lower in her seat, picking at her muffin but not eating. "I don't deserve to be forgiven. And I don't want anyone's pity."

"Sam, we all make mistakes, and we usually think our own mistakes are a lot worse than they really are. Whatever this is, I doubt that it's something that would make Freddie or Carly stop being your friend."

"Carly," Sam snorted. "Carly would be forgiven in a second. Everyone would probably be glad if it were Carly."

Okay, it was something between Sam and Freddie, obviously. Jack realized the answer to this puzzle was most likely sitting on the fire escape back at home waiting on a smoothie and a father-son talk. It was time to get back there. He reached across the table and patted her hand. She moved it immediately, wrapping it around her smoothie but he wasn't offended. He knew she wasn't one for touching.

"Listen Sam, I have to get going but if you want my advice, I think you need to talk to Freddie and Carly. Don't hide from them, okay? They care about you. And so do I." Jack paused. "And don't tell Carly this, but you've always been my favorite."

Sam smiled weakly at Jack. "Thanks, Jack." She stood up as Jack did.

"Where are you headed?"

"Back home. My mother went out early this morning, so it's quiet there."

"We'll see you later. Talk to them, Sam."

With that, Jack returned home, smoothies in hand, to find Freddie still on the fire escape. He crawled out the window and handed Freddie the larger cup. Freddie turned away from the skyline to accept it. He was proud of the fact that in most ways Freddie was like him: dependable, smart, and loyal. But when it came to emotions he was exactly like his mother – whatever he felt was clearly etched on his face.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Freddie smirked at his father and leaned back into his chair, taking the first draw of his smoothie.

"If I say no, will you just sit here and drink your smoothie?"

"Probably not," Jack laughed. "So what happened?"

"Have you ever had a moment that changed everything you thought you knew about the world?" Freddie asked.

"Well I can certainly think of a few," answered Jack. Freddie sat quietly, not offering any further information. "So, which one was it?"

"What?"

"Which one – Carly or Sam?"

"How'd you know?"

"At first, I just figured you were upset about something that happened with a girl, but when I realized just how down in the dumps you were, I knew it had to mean something happened with one of the two girls you care the most about. No one else could get you that upset."

"You scare me sometimes, Dad."

"Well, your mom says that I'm the one you take after. I guess that means we think alike, too."

Freddie snorted. "Well, you're right, it's one of the girls. Something happened with one of them last night at the lock-in."

"I think I know who that someone is, but go on."

"Okay, so Brad, Sam, and I were working on MoodFace in the cafeteria. Sam's been acting weird all week…well, for a couple of weeks actually and that was bothering me."

"Plain weird, or weird even for Sam?"

"Yeah, the second one. It's like she had a personality transplant or something. First she volunteers to work with us on our project instead of with Carly and then she starts being all helpful and polite to us. She even wanted to hang out with Brad and me when we _weren't_ working."

"I did notice her sarcasm was, um, dialed down a bit the last time she was over here. So what happened at school?"

"We wanted to test the app, so I asked Sam if we could try it on her. I ran the program, and it said that her mood was "In Love."

"In Love?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am. I ran that app all week and it worked every time. The app isn't wrong."

"And I take it you didn't know about her being in love beforehand?"

"No, she never said anything, and she's not dating anybody. So, no. I had no idea."

"So how'd she take it? Did you tell her what it said?"

"No, no, I didn't tell her. Don't you know how she would have reacted? No, I grabbed the computer, ran out of there and went to find Carly…"

'_Bad move'_ Jack thought. He suppressed a groan, but let Freddie continue.

"I showed Carly the result, and we agreed that Sam must be interested in Brad, and that's why she's been acting so weird and wanting to spend time with us. So Carly wanted us to get Sam to tell Brad she liked him. We went into the cafeteria to tell everyone that there was a two-headed frog in the courtyard—no, Dad, let me finish," Freddie said, seeing the frown on his father's face. "We had to get everyone out of there so Sam could be alone with Brad, but it didn't work and Sam got mad and sort of yelled at Carly and told her she wasn't in love with Brad."

"And so?"

"Carly came to me. I'd never seen her so upset, and it was really unlike her and Sam to fight like that. I mean, Sam usually saves the venom for me. So I went out to the courtyard and found Sam and I tried to talk to her but then she got mad at _me_, which wasn't really a surprise I guess. So I told her it was okay for her to like Brad but she kept denying it and telling me to leave her alone and threatening me.

"I guess I should be used to it. I mean, usually I back off when she gets like that, but this time, I don't know why but, I got really mad. I told that she was obviously in love with Brad, since we both knew it couldn't be me!"

"And she said?"

"Nothing!" Freddie said, throwing his hands skyward in frustration. "She said nothing. Just sat there. So I took a breath to calm down, and I told her that everyone is afraid of being rejected when they like someone, but that if she told Brad how she felt, she didn't really know what might happen."

"Good advice, son. So, what did she say?"

"She didn't _say_ anything. Dad, she grabbed me by the shoulders and _kissed_ me! On the lips! Hard!" Freddie rubbed his hand over his bottom lip. "It almost hurt a little. And it was for a while, more than ten seconds."

Jack tried to keep his cool and not let the laugh bubbling beneath the surface come out. This was a development he hadn't been expecting. "Wow."

"Yeah." Freddie said, slumping down in his chair. "Tell me about it."

"So Sam Puckett kissed you. What did you do?"

"The problem's not what I did…it's more what I _didn't_ do." He glanced over at his dad. "I didn't kiss her back."

"So you stopped the kiss?"

"No, I didn't stop her, or push her away, but my brain just, you know, froze, and I just stood there while she kissed me. Then she stopped and said she was sorry." Jack nodded. "Then I told her it was cool." Jack cringed. "Yeah, _cool_. I couldn't think of another thing to say. I couldn't really breathe. Sam looked like I'd kicked her in the stomach. Her face scrunched up, and I thought she might cry. Then she said 'forget it,' and walked back into the cafeteria. I tried to chase her, but when I got through the door, Sam was already gone, and Carly was grabbing my arm and asking why Sam and I were kissing."

"Carly? How did Carly…"

"She was watching us out the window. I should have figured that, her and her paranoia about us keeping secrets from her. She was mad that I wouldn't answer any of her questions, and neither of us could find Sam the rest of the night. Then Spencer got sick and, it was like the worst night ever! You saw she was still mad when you were driving us home. I tried calling and texting her today, but she only wrote once to say she still didn't know where Sam was and she wanted me to leave her alone. Dad, I really made a mess. I don't know how to fix this."

Freddie was a little out of breath at this point, and he went back to his smoothie.

"For starters, forget Carly. She will come around eventually. This is about Sam. Were you mad that she kissed you?"

Freddie leaned forward and stared at his cup, thinking about what to say. He finally said, "No, I wasn't mad at all. I didn't stop her because…" he lowered his voice, realization setting in. "because I didn't _want_ her to stop."

Freddie didn't look up, so he didn't see the smile on his father's face. Jack finally had the full picture, and he knew what he was going to do.

"So you liked it that Sam kissed you? Do you like her in that way?"

Another long pause from Freddie. Finally, he said "Sam's been my friend forever and I guess I just…lately I mean, I've been…noticing her. But I couldn't have told her that – she's still convinced that I'm in love with Carly. It's like I'm still back in seventh grade."

"So, just to be clear, you _do_ like Sam. If that's what you feel, it's okay to say it."

"Yeah. I guess so." He looked out over the railing of the fire escape, whispering to himself. "I like Sam Puckett." He threw his head in his hands. "Oh, God. I'm doomed!"

Jack chuckled and patted his son on the back. "So what do you think you should do about this? If she was so embarrassed she ran away from the lock-in knowing she would get in trouble for it, then I'm guessing she never wanted you to know how she felt. And she might just think that her actions cost her you as a friend." Freddie was quiet. "Did they?"

"No, Dad, absolutely not. I want her as my friend no matter what!"

"But you'd like her to be more than a friend."

"I … I really don't know what to do. I like her, and I'm happy that she might like me. But I don't know if I can just walk up to her, take her hand, and go around proclaiming she's my girlfriend. We've been at each other's throats since forever. I don't know if that can change."

"A relationship isn't about keeping score, Freddie. You keep your eyes looking forward, not tallying up the past. Your mother and I argue a lot. We have pretty different personalities, just like you and Sam. But we make it work one day at a time. What matters is knowing you both want that relationship, and that you'll do what it takes to keep the relationship going. Don't go waving things that happened with Sam when you were younger in her face. She probably feels bad enough about them already. And she feels extremely bad about what happened last night."

"But what can I do?" Freddie asked.

"It's easy. You go talk to her. Let her know what you're feeling, even if it's not all clear in your mind. Tell her she's your best friend and nothing will ever change that, and that you want your friendship to keep on getting better. And then tell her that even though you're sorting through some feelings you're just admitting to yourself you have, it would be wonderful if that friendship turned out to be something more. But no rushing. There's no shot clock in a relationship."

"So I should go see her?"

"Yes. Now. You can take the car." Jack tried not to show how excited he was. It was a man thing. Watching his son go off to get the girl was a proud moment. "And drop Spencer at Ridgeway on your way, so he can get his car back."

"I don't even know where she is."

"Freddie, come on, you're making me do all the work here. When I was in the Groovy Smoothie, I might have seen a blonde-headed demon, as I believe you call her. Who might have said she was going back home for the afternoon. And who might have been crying because she thinks she did something terrible last night."

"But Dad," Freddie interjected, "Sam doesn't like talking about things when she's upset. She'll slam the door in my face, or worse."

"This is one of those times when you don't take 'no' for an answer. Show her that you're serious. Freddie, it's easy to say you care about someone. But sometimes you've got to show them. Tell her how you feel, tell her she can trust you enough to do the same. You won't get there in one conversation, but today you can make a good start."

Jack pulled his car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Freddie. "Sam made a big step last night. It's your turn now." Jack smiled as Freddie caught the keys and put them in his pocket. "Get going! Don't leave her in doubt."

"Thanks, Dad. Thanks for everything."

"Thank me by being there for Sam. Come on, go!"

Freddie got up, crawled back through the window, and within a minute had left the apartment. Jack went back through himself, and returned to the kitchen, where he found Marissa scrubbing the silverware intensively.

"So you talked to Freddie?" she asked him.

"I did." He said, leaning into the fridge to hide the smile on his face. As happy as he was about the current development, his wife was going to take some convincing.

"And?"

"And, we raised a pretty good kid." He stood and laughed at Marissa who was eyeing him suspiciously. "I see the way he treats those two girls and it really makes me proud."

"So the problem had something to do with those girls?"

"One of them in particular."

Marissa turned back to the silverware, scrubbing in earnest now. "I bet it was Miss Prissypants, wasn't it? She has some nerve turning down my Freddie time and time again. She'd be lucky to get a young man as wonderful as…"

"It wasn't Carly." Marissa froze and Jack took the opportunity to continue. "As I suspected, there's something going on between Freddie and the Puckett girl. She tried to tell Freddie something last night, but it didn't quite work out. I convinced him to go over there and finish the conversation."

"You told him to go talk to her? You're encouraging this? Jackson, I don't like that Samantha. She's not good for him, and she's just going to cause trouble for him. One of these days, she's going to get herself arrested again, and what if Freddie's with her? Jack, what if she does something that gets him into trouble?"

"Marissa, honey, calm down! What if it's the other way around? What if Freddie gives her reasons not to break the law? Or work harder in school? Or behave better just to please him? We've talked about that mother of hers countless times. I'm just grateful that she's not all covered in cuts and bruises when I see her. I haven't even thought about what it would mean for her to have someone in her life who really cared about her. You've said it yourself. You wanted us to raise a gentleman. Let's give him the chance to be one." He walked over to her. "Plus, I seem to remember that your mother didn't think _I _was right for _you_ either…and look how great that turned out." He smiled.

Marissa put down the silverware and pulled Jack into a hug. "Jackson, you always manage to say the right thing when I'm panicking. If Freddie's half as charming as you are, Samantha Puckett isn't going to stand a chance."

Jack laughed, and turned to the silverware. "Now, are you done Cloroxing the utensils? You're just in time for me to take them to the grill on the roof to cook the steaks."

"Jack, you're going to make a mess! And you know I don't like Freddie eating red meat!"

"If it makes you feel better, make some green bean and tofu casserole to go with it. But you're going eat a steak and enjoy it. I didn't make that deal with Lewbert for him to ignore the grill on the roof for nothing." He reached into the cabinet for a platter, "And honey, indulge me and set four places."

"Four?"

He looked over at his wife and winked. "I have a feeling we're going to have company for dinner tonight."

Around five that afternoon, Jack was applying a dry rub to the steaks before taking them upstairs when his phone chimed to alert him to a text message. He washed his hands and grabbed his phone.

_Freddie: Dad, there's a problem over here._

_Dad: What happened, Freddie? How is Sam?_

_Freddie: Fine. We talked. A lot. But her mother came back and she's been drinking._

_Dad: Get her out. Bring her here. Steak tonight. Her change of clothes?_

_Freddie: At Carly's._

_Dad: Get going._

Jack smiled to himself. He had to admit he enjoyed being right, especially in an affair of the heart. He'd been clueless about this business when he was seventeen, so he was happy to see that Freddie was better at it than he had been.

He texted Spencer to warn him he might have his usual guest in his apartment for the night, and he finished up the meat as he waited for Freddie to arrive.

Twenty minutes later Jack heard the front door open, followed by footsteps coming across the living room. He saw Freddie standing behind the couch, accompanied by Sam Puckett. She barely looked like the same person he had seen in the Groovy Smoothie several hours earlier. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had on a clean blue shirt and a pressed pair of jeans. She even had light makeup on, one of the first times Jack had seen her wear any. And she was wearing lip gloss that was clearly smeared around her mouth. That explained her huge smile, the feature that made her look the most different from the morning.

"Hi, Freddie."

"Hi, Dad. I know it's short notice, but can Sam stay for dinner?"

"Of course she can. Sam, it's very nice to see you again. I've seen a lot of you this week."

"Good to be here, Jack. Those are nice-looking steaks."

"He's about to cook them, too, so hands off, Sam," Freddie needled his … well, they night need to sort out what to call her now. She punched his arm lightly as she walked around to look at the steaks. Just then, Marissa came out from the bedroom.

"Freddie! Samantha…" Despite Jack having warned her several hours earlier, Marissa looked unhappy that Sam was there. Jack stared at Marissa, mouthing _be nice_.

"Sam, I'm going up to the roof to get these on the grill. Can you help me carry them up? I could use an extra pair of hands."

Sam took the meat-filled plate that Jack handed her and followed him to the elevator, riding in silence up to Bushwell's roof. She watched Jack open the propane tank and start the burners, then move the four steaks onto the grill after allowing the device a couple of minutes to heat.

"So, Mr. Ben … Jack, how'd you get Lewbert to let you have a grill up here? He never lets Spencer grill."

"I have my ways. And can you blame him for not letting Spencer near fire?"

"Good point." She laughed, setting down the tray.

"So," Jack said, turning to Sam, "you're looking a lot happier than you were this morning. Were you able to do something about that problem you were having?"

Sam just grinned back at Jack. She obviously knew Jack had a role in what happened this afternoon. "So it was pure coincidence that Freddie showed up at my house less than an hour after I talked to you?"

"As much as it was a coincidence that you showed up at _my_ house another couple of hours after that, right?" Jack laughed. "Sam, last night I drove Freddie and Carly home, they're upset and you're nowhere to be found. Freddie's at home looking like someone shot his dog and then I see you, and you tell me you did something horrible. It didn't take a genius to see something had happened with the three of you. So I asked Freddie what was wrong, and he told me what happened between the two of you."

Sam put her face in her hands. "This is so embarrassing."

"No need to be embarrassed Sam."

"You must think I'm crazy."

"No, I think you had feelings and you wanted to let Freddie know what those feelings were. It's never a bad thing to tell the people you care about how you feel."

"Freddie said the same thing when he came over today." She looked up at Jack, a lopsided smile on her face. "Don't supposed you had anything to do with that, huh?"

"Maybe a little." He laughed, "I just told him that if he knew how he felt, he should just tell you. That's what you should do with your best friend."

"I just didn't have any idea. I didn't think he could … feel that way about me, you know?"

"Sam, maybe when you get to be my age, you sense these things better. You and Carly are both Freddie's best friends. The two of you willingly spend all your free time with him, and I know he cares about you both but I've thought, for a while now, that there was something more when it came to you and Freddie. Something about the way he looked at you I guess, even when you were at each other's throats. But despite that, the two of you were always so afraid of each other. Probably afraid of rejection. And that's what I saw twice earlier today. So I didn't do much. I just told Freddie that you stuck your neck out, and today it was his turn."

Jack flipped the steaks over and looked at Sam. "So was I wrong?"

"No. But I don't know what comes next."

"You know, Freddie asked me the same thing. There's no automatic next step. What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know. I mean, it's nice, knowing he likes me…like that but the rest is sort of…confusing. We haven't even said anything to Carly yet."

"Well, there's no rush. It's perfectly fine to just enjoy where you are right now. I'd say that the most important part is to be friends. You already are friends, but you had to be holding something back when you didn't even want to admit it. Learn to trust each other. If you can do that, the other things you feel for each other will flow on their own. You don't have to force it. Just enjoy being together."

"Thanks, Jack. I owe you one, but don't you ever tell anyone or I'll…"

"And there's the Sam Puckett I know. We Benson men aren't so bad once you get to know us. We're just big nerds on the outside. And these steaks are looking pretty much done." Jack turned the gas off and scooped up the cooked steaks onto the plate. He paused and looked at Sam, who was staring back at him.

"Everything okay?"

"It is now." Sam stepped toward Jack and gave him a brief hug. It was a sweet gesture, coming from a girl who earlier today had recoiled from his touch.

"Let's head back. I left Freddie alone with Marissa. If we don't get back she might start giving him a tick bath."

"What is the deal with her and ticks?"

"You're too young to remember the Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever outbreak twenty years ago. When Marissa and I were dating, she'd work shifts treating patients that lasted for days. It was caused by a bacteria spread by tick bites. Everyone was taking baths using that awful soap. No one who went through it ever forgets. But that tick was eradicated in Washington."

"Now I know where Freddie gets his nubbishness from!" She laughed, looping her arm through his, "But it's cool. Turns out I just happen to like nubs."

It was Jack's turn to smile. He liked seeing Sam Puckett happy, and he knew Freddie did too. And if Freddie kept on having this effect on her, he was looking forward to having her around the apartment more. The new couple already had its number one fan.

With dinner over, Sam and Freddie were out on the fire escape to get some air and slowly start to say goodnight. Freddie still struggled to grasp the past 24 hours. He and Sam went from yelling at each other, to Sam kissing him, to Freddie sitting morose on the fire escape, then driving to Sam's house and pouring his heart out to her, to tears of joy on both their parts, to Sam coming to Freddie's home for dinner, and finally to the fire escape where they shared their first kiss.

Freddie helped Sam step through the window and onto the fire escape.

"When do you want to go over to Carly's?" He said, sitting down in a chair beside her.

"No rush," she said, laying back and propping her feet against the railing. "It's really nice out here."

"Yeah. This is sort of my special place."

"Special place?" she smirked. "You are such a girl sometimes. Are we gonna paint each other's fingernails now?" she laughed.

"Really, Sam?" he laughed, "Are we back to that now?"

"Sorry." she said. "It's gonna take some getting used to."

"What is?"

"You know. The whole kissing instead of insulting you thing," she smiled.

Freddie returned her smile and the lapsed into comfortable silence. It might take a while, but being like this with Sam was something he was looking forward to.

"Thanks for inviting me over for dinner."

"You're welcome. How was your steak?"

"Amazing. Mama does like her steak."

"And how was _my _steak?"

"Even better. You learned how to take care of Mama pretty quick. I might have to keep you around for a while."

They sat together in the quiet. Freddie wondered if he should wait longer to talk to her about everything that happened that day.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?" She turned her head to look at Freddie.

"Thank you for … for a lot of things, really. Today was…"

"Crazy. Intense. Not what you would have imagined in a million years?"

"Yeah. All of that…but in a good way." He reached over and tentatively grabbed her hand. He was still trying to figure out the whole 'am I allowed to touch you' thing. "What you did at the lock-in took courage. I wish I had been the one to make the first move. But you've always been braver than me."

"I'm sorry I freaked you out."

He looked over at her. "I'm not."

"What?"

"Sam, I think in the back of my head I've known for a while that what I felt for you was more than 'friendly.' But I was terrified to admit it to you – or even myself. If you hadn't done what you did last night I might not have ever made a move…and we wouldn't be here right now." He squeezed her hand, "and I'm glad we're here."

Sam smiled. "I never thought you'd feel that way."

"Stranger things have happened." He winked at her, "Like you falling for a nub."

He reached out and put am arm around Sam's shoulder, and she leaned against him. "So what happens now?" she asked.

"Honestly, I don't know. But I feel like the hardest part is over: admitting how we feel and telling each other. That part was really scary but now, I guess I feel… hopeful, and kind of excited. I'm excited that I get to do this with my best friend." He leaned toward her and for the fifth time in twenty-four hours they kissed. Pulling back he was happy to see her smiling at him. "Right now I sort of feel ready for anything."

"Well, I know one thing I'm not ready to do."

"Tell Carly," they said together. Instead of slapping him, Sam reached out and tickled Freddie's jaw gently.

"Can I ask you something?" said Freddie. Sam nodded her head, and he continued. "I know you hate dressing up as a daffodil, but prom is in a couple of weeks, and if I promise not to dress too nubbishly … would you go with me?"

He looked over at Sam, not knowing what kind of an expression to expect. To his relief, she was wearing a big smile.

"Yeah."

"Really?" he couldn't disguise the surprise in his voice. "You'll go?"

"Why not? I'll have to get a dress, but Carly will help me. She lives for that stuff."

"Dark blue. You look really good in dark blue. Like your eyes, but a darker shade. Actually, you look good in anything, but especially when it highlights your eyes." He turned to Sam to look straight into her eyes.

She looked down at her hands and then back to him, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I'm gonna have to get used to you saying stuff like that."

"You know one of the best things about you?" he asked. She shook her head.

"My wit and charm?"

"I'm serious Sam." He wanted her to know what he saw in her, and he wasn't going to let her use humor to run away from the moment. "It's the fact that you're always the most beautiful girl in any room you're in – and you don't even know it." He reached out and raised her chin to look at him. "Your eyes, your smile—which I would love to see more often—all those different expressions you make, how everything you feel is right there on your face. You are hands down the prettiest girl I know."

He reached out, put his arms around Sam, and pulled her toward him. Hugging her was something else he never dared to do. Sam put her arms around his neck and hugged him back. Freddie thought he heard Sam sob, and he looked down to see tears running down both her cheeks.

"I thought Pucketts didn't cry."

"You are so dead," she said, her breath hitching as she tried to laugh and push him in the chest.

"Don't worry. I won't tell. I want to keep this side of you all to myself." Freddie paused. "It's getting late. I really need to get you over to Carly's."

"Freddie, what do I tell Carly? She saw everything last night."

"Tell her whatever you think you should. I trust your judgment. She'll have to know eventually. She's our best friend, and I don't want to make her uncomfortable but I also don't want to have to forget what I feel for you whenever she comes into the room."

A minute or so later, they were back inside, headed through the living room toward the front door. Jack sat on the couch, watching television. He turned to look at the couple, and noticed they were holding hands firmly.

"Dad," said Freddie, "thanks for your help."

Jack just smiled. "Remember, no rush, enjoy where you are."

Freddie nodded and walked with Sam toward the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"No problem. I'll still be here, probably asleep until your mother tells me 'a couch-sleeping Jack will get a bad back.' Goodnight, Sam. Come back whenever you want."

"Good night, Jack," she smiled.

As the front door closed, Jack smiled contentedly. He was thrilled to see them happy, glad they'd managed to work it out. He heard his wife moving around in their bedroom and smiled to himself. Marissa wasn't going to be nearly as thrilled as he was with Freddie's new relationship. But she'd better get used to it because he had a feeling that Sam Puckett was going to be a part of their lives for a long time.


End file.
